


Little Steps

by Tish



Category: Strangers With Candy
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Chuck and Geoffrey find happiness together, Chuck still needs to take steps to repair the mess he made of his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Steps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaye (Themistoklis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themistoklis/gifts).



The feather in Geoffrey's headband flapped back and forth as he bounced upon Chuck, reverse cowboy style.  
In a display of cultural appropriation that made even Iron Eyes Cody rotate rapidly in his grave, Geoffrey gripped Chuck's boots at the ankle as he moaned, “Me like-um big Chief Cowboy! Me want-um you to smoke my peace pipe!”

Chuck clutched onto Geoffrey's thigh and hip as he bucked up and down under him, finally coming with a heaving gasp. He closed his eyes and wiped the sweat from under his cowboy hat. He lay there in the half-light, gaining his breath back as Geoffrey untangled himself and lay down beside him.

Something tickled Chuck's face and nose, and he snuffled, opening his eyes to see Geoffrey's weirdly beautiful face beaming at him through the slightly sweat-smudged war-paint.

Chuck smiled as Geoffrey draw the feather across his face and down his chest. He had a shitty job, a crap place to live and a broken down car to go with his deeply humiliating and embarrassing divorce. Yet he was happy, toe-curlingly, blissfully _happy_ to be lying next to Geoffrey.

He began to wonder what he had done to deserve this and when it was going to come crashing down all around him, but then was distracted by Geoffrey's passionate kiss and what he was now doing with that feather.

 

*****

 

The breakfast ritual was simple. Geoffrey had his smiley face mug of herbal tea, half a grapefruit and a ridiculously chirpy disposition for such a fuck-off early hour. Chuck stuck to toast, scrambled eggs and a steady stream of coffees. He was still amused by Geoffrey's inane puppy dog mood, but there was just a tiny sliver of a feeling that it was starting to wear thin. He downed his coffee and watched Geoffrey quickly whisk the eggs to a fluffy piece of heaven.

All was forgiven after one bite.

“You know, when Seamus comes to visit, we could go to the zoo, have a picnic and go to a baseball game. Maybe the Knicks?” Geoffrey's enthusiasm bubbled over like a slightly broken fountain.

Chuck carefully set his fork down, the clink against the plate sounding a little too harsh than he'd intended, “I was actually just going to take him to a local baseball game, and maybe a bite to eat at a burger place. It's only a day access.”

Geoffrey smiled and nodded, “Sure. Like a Little League game? I guess I could stomach some fast food, too.”

Chuck sipped his coffee and took a renewed interest in his scrambled eggs, “These are so delicious, Geoffrey. You really can taste the yellow!”

“Goodness straight from the sun!” Geoffrey replied cheerfully, stealing a slice of toast. “So, do they have the baseball games before or after lunch? I hope I'm over my phobia of baseballs, though. Other kids used to throw them at me,” he babbled on, oblivious to Chuck's sigh.

Chuck reached over and patted his arm, “I really don't think you should. Not this first time, at least.”  
Despite Geoffrey's brave smile and philosophical comment of, “Well, litle steps make a great journey,” Chuck couldn't help thinking he'd just kicked a puppy.

 

*****

 

From his vantage point in the corner of the fast-food outlet, Chuck watched the people come and go. Most were happy families having a break from cooking, but a pattern slowly built up. A mom would arrive with one or two kids, the dad would nervously get up and greet her. The smell of nervousness, tension and polite formality mingled with the odour of deep fried food. After a few minutes of awkward conversation, mom would deposit an overnight bag next to the table and say her goodbyes for the weekend. Dad would then take over for two days of guilt induced treats. One or two of these encounters actually went smoother and with a much friendlier atmosphere. Chuck watched with a knot in his stomach and silently started praying.

His prayer sounded empty in his head and he looked up to see Clair walking in with Seamus. He quickly downed the rest of his coffee and stood up to meet them. Clair found a smile, but it didn't really extend to her eyes.

She turned to Seamus, “Darling, it's a treat day, so go and look at the menu whilst I say hello to your father, please.”  
Seamus nodded to Chuck and wandered off, pushing his round glasses back up his face so he could read the menu board.

The tightness in Chuck's stomach stayed as he gazed at Clair. For a fleeting moment, he had an urge to throw himself at her feet, grovelling for her to take him back. To have things as they were before, to be back to normal.

The intense look in Clair's gaze snapped him back to reality. Anger and hatred, mixed with pity and relief swam in her eyes as she spoke, “I'll expect him back by 9 p.m.”

For a moment, Chuck started to lean in for a kiss, stopping as he remembered that he hadn't kissed her for years. He swallowed and nodded, “He's looking good. Happy, too.”

Clair nodded, “He is now. 9 p.m.” She turned and went over to Seamus, “Have a lovely day with your dad. Love you.” She brushed back his tousled brown fringe and kissed his forehead.

“Mom!” Seamus squirmed at the public display of affection, relenting for a hug from her.

As Clair left with a wave, Seamus turned to Chuck, “Can we eat now, dad?”

“Sure!” Chuck's reply was almost too loud, a mixture of panic and relief. It would help take their minds off talking for ten or so minutes, he thought to himself.

 

At the table, Seamus chewed his food thoughtfully, before breaking the silence, “I like it better now. You two aren't sitting around being miserable all the time.”

Chuck's burger stuck in his throat as he stared sadly at his son.

Seamus took a sip of his drink, “At least now you don't have to sneak out of the house at 3 a.m. Those creaky boards on the stairs always woke me up, no matter how much you tried to avoid them.”

Chuck went cold inside, knowing that an excuse of going downstairs for a glass of water would be called out for the bullshit it was. He cleared his throat and hoarsely whispered, “You knew? You knew about Geoffrey?”

Seamus blinked blankly, “Who's Geoffrey? All I know is that living with you and mom was like living in a funeral parlour. She was thinking of sending me to grandma's.”

Chuck sipped his lukewarm coffee, trying to stall for time, desperately thinking of some excuse, some justification. All he saw was Geoffrey's face and no words could explain what he felt.

Finishing his burger, Seamus wiped his fingers on the napkin, “Anyway. Will they be selling baseball caps at the game? I got my pocket money.”

Chuck nodded, aware that Seamus just wanted to get on with his day, and not dwell on holding a grudge. He reached over and ruffled Seamus' hair, “I'll treat you. You're growing up into a fine young man, Seamus. You'll make some woman very happy one day.”

Seamus fidgeted away from yet another PDA, and shrugged, simply stating, “Or some man.”

Chuck blinked rapidly and suddenly found himself having to clean his glasses with intense concentration. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be fine.


End file.
